


Hold the Celebration

by Tea_Queen_2112



Series: The Maze and Hay Hideout. [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jonathan does care, Long One Shot, Oneshot, Past Abuse, Scriddler, just in his own way, minor psychological manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 19:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20296504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_Queen_2112/pseuds/Tea_Queen_2112
Summary: Jonathan visits Edward at his apartment and finds that things are quite unusual. Using his psychology skills he is able to deduce why Eddie is acting the way he is.





	Hold the Celebration

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot turned 5k. Honestly, my first time writing for DC but kinda fun working with Nygma. Enjoy.

Jonathan never cared for Gotham. To him Gotham was infested with the lowest of the low. The only good thing about it was it was filled to the brim with people desperate for money and thus he would get willing victims crawling to him. Easy prey for him to pick at. 

While he hated the people and the city itself the one thing he hated more than anything was the weather. He hated the rain in Gotham. It was just awful. His lab couldn’t be operational whenever the rain was coming down as the lab roof would leak and he couldn't exactly call out a repairman to fix the problem. 

In only a matter of time wouldn’t matter for much longer. It would be the day of reckoning for all of them. Gotham would be silent as he squeezed his hand around her neck, fear growing in the public's eye. How marvellous it would be. Like the Mad Hatter on his frabjous day. 

Like a seed that needed to be cultivated first he’d been working on this scheme for a long time. Macrophobia was a more uncommon affliction but he didn’t suffer from it. He could bear the pain of waiting for his plan to come to fruition. 

Things had to go as they had planned or else. He had to be at the Ace Chemical factory at exactly 3 tomorrow afternoon. Not a moment before and not a moment after. Not to quote their good friend Jervis but he couldn't dilly, dally or delay.

Before that he could afford the luxury of celebration. A bit presumptions but he had a good feeling about this one.

He was just going to drop some of his supplies of at Eddie’s place first. According to both of their schedules, everyone would be out of the lair. Just how he liked it. Nothing more satisfying than being alone with his thoughts and a nice stiff drink. 

As he approached the building he took a moment to consider how insufferably boring it was. One of the many derelict places that inhabited Gotham’s streets. He noticed that the yellow tape was a nice touch. A new security feature. Moving the tape just above his head he walked into the supposedly condemned building. 

Despite Batman seemingly having lots of knowledge and resources at his supply he never seemed to be able to find what was known as the ‘Maize and Hay hideout.’

A pun. Fitting for them both he supposed. Edward was technically the one who ran the building and owned it but since Jonathan made a small contribution to the purchase of it he got to choose the name. He thought that the name should be something which didn't cause Edward’s compulsions to flare up more so than they already did. 

As soon as he walked in the door he could see a green blur moving about the kitchen. Like a firefly on a dark porch during a summer night. Alas, his plan for solitary celebrations came to a close as he realised that Edward was still wondering about. A note, that it was unusual for Edward to not follow his schedule. A man so methodical forgetting his own pattern, especially a man with his precision. 

He almost gagged on the smell as soon as it hit him. Crane was no stranger to using chemicals but the absolute power that inhibited the bleach used was overpowering. Intoxicants could excite him under the right circumstances yet something about it seemed off. Edward could rarely stomach strong chemical smells himself. Accustomed to motor oils and burning metal when making his robots but not alchemy. 

He placed the food bags down on the spotless countertop and rubbed a finger over the top of the fake marble. As he inspected closer he saw the depth of the cleaning that Edward had done. When Edward had bought the place he bought a roach filled pig sty under the name of Nashton, while it had taken them a while to get the place halfway decent Eddie seemed to do what had taken 4 months in under one week. 

Edward was thin. The man was a lima bean at the best of times but this was worse than usual. His metabolism was high for his age, leaving him lanky yet he always managed to look healthy. His green shirts were meant to be fitted yet they hung loose on his frame. Despite how sometimes Edward was a bastard one would want to punch in the face Edward always made sure that he was the most gracious host to the other villains. Jonathan rummaged his hand in the grocery bag for a couple of seconds until he could feel the item he was looking for. 

Edward hadn't noticed him enter first he’d been so preoccupied with his own little world over to the side of the room. He jumped out of his skin when he finally did turn around to see him rustling in the bag. The decorative plates he held in his hand smashing down onto the floor. One smashed into dangerous shards while the other two split right down the middle. 

The smashing sound sending him into a silent muttering rage. 

Now that Edward was finally facing him he could see his face as a whole. Eddie’s eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. It was incredible how the moment he went one single week without anyone to supervise him he could care for everything else. He looked frustrated with Jonathan. 

He tossed the bar at Nygma. It did not improve his mood. Edward looked down at the golden wrapper and fiddled about with the label before deciding to just pocket the thing and eat it later. The lack of appetite didn’t go unnoticed.

“I will eat it later. I’ve made some tea if you’d like some. I thought it was mine but I’ve been so bogged down with riddles for my next game of with Batman I made a mistake. Picked up one of the teabags from your cupboard.”

Jonathan made a concerned expression, his eyes looking towards the open tea cupboard. 

“I’ve been keeping my new secret fear product within those tea bags for my next scheme. Didn’t you see the note I left on your desk?” Jonathan asked completely seriously as he nervously looked at the empty cup. He grabbed Edward by the chin and looked at his pupils to see if there had been any sign of a change. 

Edward had told Jonathan multiple times that leaving notes for him didn’t work in the least. Edward’s filling system was in his head so he could afford to leave his work station in disarray as he knew where he had put things specifically. 

Looking down at the used cup he saw the orange, brownish hue that had been left behind in the little amount of liquid that remained. Skittishly he looked towards Crane and the sink. Like hell was he going to be under the effects of that ghastly concoction. He’d become well aware of how terrified his rats looked under its influence. 

Placing two fingers in his mouth he tried to make himself purge in the sink. The only sound in the background was Crane beginning to chuckle at the sight of Eddie’s desperation. A hand trying to stifle it.

Jonathan smirked.

“Or maybe I already left them in my own cupboard in my room. Yes, actually that tea was completely fine. Silly me.” 

He raised his head, a little bit of spit running down his chin as he looked at Jonathan. “This is my hideout Scarecrow and I can kick you out just as easily.” He was still leaning on the sink trying to re-gather his breaths and thoughts. All at the same time. 

Edward was breaking out the villain names and Jonathan raised an eyebrow to this sudden change in events. 

“You would never engage in a physical confrontation with me, Edward.” He savoured the look on Edwards's face. 

“You facetious misbegotten troglodyte!” 

“Using your big words Edward? My, oh my, I must have provoked something in your mind.” 

“Why are you in a mood Crane? This is becoming tedious. I need to clean up the dishes you made me break. You knew I would drop them. I am now aware and am in control.”

Edward wasn't one to be easily provoked yet here he was only one joke away from his boiling point. Edward would brush it off. Besides, it wasn’t his usual speech pattern. If Edward was breaking many of his patterns something was going on. 

“Why bring up control? Are you even the one who is still in control?” 

Nygma was far too easily wound up. He wouldn’t dare do it with any of the other rogues for they would go through with their threats of bodily harm. Bless Edward’s heart but he wasn't exactly the most willed of them all. Nor the most physical.

Eddie placed the cup in the sink harsher than what was needed. He fixed his waistcoat before turning around to face the smirking psychologist. He was about to call him out when Jonathan decided to launch the next barrage of psychological fuckery. 

“Do you feel that? Your mind beginning to slip into its own oblivion. Making such a stupid mistake such as dropping those plates. Your sharp mind should have seen me coming. Is your mind somewhere else?” Jonathan’s antics were as sweet as Halloween night. 

Edward fumbled around looking for a response. 

“Disreputable. Contemptible. You fear the mortal batman. That’s it. You fear his fists in your face and your defeat. You fear that one day your research will be worthless.” He muttered under his breath as only now he was beginning to pick up the pieces of the plate. They looked like they were on the floor mocking him and he’d had quite enough of it. 

Though his teasing had been somewhat delightful he immediately dropped it when he saw the way that he began cleaning the floor. Jonathan saw him cut himself on the pieces but never making a single sound in response. Jonathan watched on as he repeated the steps about four times picking up the bigger pieces, eventually getting a broom and sweeping up the rest. He ended up getting blood on the broom handle, the muttering continuing even more so. His brow furring on the both of them.

Before Jonathan was going to make a quip about trying to use psychology on a psychologist but refrained himself for the time being. 

“If you were any more of a bastard then you are Crane I would have put you in one of my death traps by now. Maybe even have a contraption contort your body until you’re shaped like one of my question marks. Or a t-shaped rack like your precious namesake.”

“Careful, you are better company than most but I don’t take being threatened over a joke too kindly. You are not normally this intentionally rude Edward.”

Edward finished putting the pieces of the plates into the bin and only when he went to scratch his neck did he finally see what Jonathan had seen the first time around. The warm blood on his neck. He looked down in horror, then a mild annoyance. The smaller cuts would heal but for one specific cut on his index finger, he would need a plaster to cover it. 

“Well it's rude to trick people into thinking that they’ve been drugged as well.” He said. He made eye contact as he applied the band aid in an attempt to make Jonathan feel guilty. Fortunately for him, it had worked. 

Ever since his childhood Jonathan seldom apologized for things. Scaring his classmates, leaving dead rats into his bullies lockers and his favourite traumatizing his adult teachers. He didn't see the point as to him they were all participating in vital research. In only rare cases, he did apologize with authenticity. Those cases including his mother, his grandmother and on the rarest of blue moons Edward Nygma. 

“I apologize for my actions. It was cruel. What are your next set of plans? You seem to be working tirelessly on them.” Evidently, something was wrong and the time for mocking could be put aside for the moment. 

Edward rolled his eyes while starting to clean up the table. He could only now begin to feel the sting in his fingers as he moved the items of the table. Jonathan took the other bowl from off him and gave him the nod to go and sit down. He could do something around the house for once.

Once seated at the table he twiddled his fingers as he tried to remember what the riddle he had come up with earlier was. It came to him. 

“I am silently alive in a little white cage. Remove me too soon and nine becomes eight. I can fit snug in the palm of your hand yet I can possess you under my command. What am I Batman?” 

Jonathan was very good at Edwards’s riddles it was to be admitted however he did on occasion play the fool to appease his godly ego. He wasn't going to have Edward be in a mood with him considering what schemes he had coming up. It did so happen to be a rather good one he’d managed to come up with Riddlewise.

“I am truly stumped Edward.”

“It’s simple now Jonathan. Think.”

“Well you have proven me your better as always. I wonder if you would be able to teach me this little riddle of yours.” Said with a smirk and Eddie weakly gave a smile. For every small five times that Crane was a dick he would have to do something nice one big time. Edward held up a small belt. Jonathan didn’t understand until he saw the metal cat emblem engraved upon the buckle. He rubbed his hand over it. 

“Ah going after our good friend Miss Kyle to get to the bat.” She was more Nygma’s friend then she was his but he supposed that it was just their personalities. The cat was a bit too into the right side of the law. She’d been too liable to give away their secret location at any given time. He would have put the kitty down by now but Eddie like her and thus the cat stayed. 

“Well she did so generously leave her belt here last time. I can make the bat think I have her. Illusions are just as powerful as the real thing.”

Edward wrapped her belt around his arm and moved it to the side for the time being. It was a pretty little trinket and it would be a shame to give it back now.

“How do you intend that Miss Kyle doesn’t contact the bat?”

“Paying her.”

“Ah. Tell Selina that I do say hello. And tell her to relay the message to our dear Harleen. She might be visiting Dr Isley however. She’s still in prison for the moment.”

The sirens did stay over at the apartment but when they did it become somewhat of a mix of cliché thriller movie and teenage slumber party movies. After a bank heist where they stole millions upon millions, they would grab their snacks and curl up watching a trashy movie with brightly coloured face masks on. Jonathan would make a pass on the activities but Edward would sometimes join in with them. Face masks and all. 

Edward stopped washing for a moment. Getting warmer to what Eddie was worrying about. Jonathan’s subtle probing had finally paid off. Something to do with the Prison. Still, it was far too soon to be blatantly asking about it openly. It would be like a lion roaring before it was anywhere close to the gazelle.

“Forgive me for being so rude. I haven’t even asked about your week. It has been a quiet one has it not?”

“It’s been fine Crane.” Edward said curtly. Edwards’s week had been perfectly fine. He knew that one in one hundred people across Gotham this very evening had the same kind of dilemma that he had. It was fine. 

“The place is spotless. Did you even stop for a break? It looks good.” 

As good as Jonathan was he was often sloppy when it came to things that weren’t his own. The way he saw it was that he only had to be responsible for his own mess. Edward on the other had was like a mothering hen that had to cater to everyone else. 

“Why have a break? I have things I need to do. Designs I need to draw up and riddles I need to write. I can’t waste my time on nonsense. My brain needs focus. I need that comfort. I mean look at the place. It’s still filthy.” He motioned to around the living room area which was a little bit untidy by his normal standards but immaculate by everyone else's. 

The last thing he needed right now was any more riddles. He needed a hot soak in the tub and a nap that lasted into next week.

“Look at your reflection Edward.”

Edward could finally focus on something. He never realised how terrible he had let himself become. He tended to sweat very little but even he could see some beginning to build up on his forehead. He tried to wipe it away but even on his sleeve, it was visible. His skin was already crawling. 

“I may have procured some of Jervis’ intoxicants. You need sleep.”

It wouldn’t be the first time that he carried Edward to bed although it would be the first time passed out from an external source. Even when he had a nightmare during his sleep Jonathan would leave him be. The man only seemed to ever get peace during those five-hour naps he took. Or the occasional 13-hour nap depending. 

“You think that I, The Riddler, need something to help me regain my mental strength?”

“Enough of our little games as fun as they are.” The master of fear held his hand out for the master of riddles to see. He shook his head as they both knew he would have to come clean.

“It’s an issue regarding a prisoner.” 

Edward tapped the table. 

“That’s very unconventional of you. Not unconventional but more...Uncommon.” 

Edward was always admitted to the asylum and never to Black gate. For him to have an enemy in prison he must have stepped on some toes. Then again this was the villain who has met everyone at some point and everyone had their opinions on him. Some people like Harley and Ivy loved him whereas someone like the Joker would hit him over and over with a question mark. Joker had hit him over and over with a question mark.

“A prisoner who’s on his deathbed. Being released into a nursing home for those with limited time left. A 3cm blip on the brain. I first heard about it on the phone but I was emailed the images to see its authenticity.” 

His brown eyes became more curious the more he talked about what was going on though he did suspect he was being spoon fed specific details rather than the whole story. 

“I just don’t think I should see him. You see he asked for me personally. We have unfinished business of sorts. I’ve already decided that I can’t and I won’t.”  
Jonathan moved a little bit closer in his chair, bridging the gap between the two of them. 

“Your mind is burdened by problems. Allow me to peek inside your brain and see what is causing you such fear.”

Edward sat down beside him. 

“You can help by paying your rent. Which is late. If even an asinine simpleton like the croc can remember to pay back when I say surely you can as well.” He moved to get up but the look from the other man kept him within the confines of his chair.

“Nygma you are trying my patience.” In his profession patience was needed by the handfuls but he hadn’t been a professional for quite some time now. 

“What else is in the bag you bought?” Edward could see that he brought some supplies for the fridge. He was grateful that he wouldn’t have to make the long trek himself and risk being out in the open. 

_‘Deflecting again’_ Jonathan thought. At least with normal people they didn’t have an ego that had to be chipped away first. 

“Some energy bars because I know you’ll eat nothing else, as well as some iron supplements. Some old country style brownies that my mother used to make and the same Bourbon that my father liked to drink. I will be celebrating shortly you see.”

He had him with a twitch at the side of his lips. A not so common giveaway but very obvious on a man like Edward. A control freak who could control his emotions yet one little thing was able to give him away. In a manner of speaking it was almost cute in the same way a child trying to hide something was cute. It was something to do with the food, family or the alcohol.

“Jonathan you know the rule about alcohol in the house.”

Edward had the rules printed on a big a3 size page on the wall. Framed in a silver decorative frame as well because when Edward wanted you to notice something he would make sure it was screaming in your ear. Always seen but rarely followed by the people who decided to crash there to his annoyance. It was only a god-given miracle that it wasn't painted bright neon green. 

If there's one thing he needed more than anything else it was the smell of alcohol. He wouldn't have even considered implementing the rule until he picked up one of Jonathan psychology magazines and read a fascinating article on PTSD and the relation to smells. How certain aromas can trigger dreadful panic attacks. All the things people heard or saw would be forgotten but smells could bring them back. Though Eddie was more into challenging the mind seeing how it worked was fascinating as well. 

He had partaken in a different sort of self-harm as he tried it one night on himself as he tried to drink a beverage that Penguin had offered him. With a cockney laugh, he berated him for being a wimp and made him empty out the contents of his stomach even more. 

Well the other roles such as cleanliness and hygiene were disregarded almost immediately upon arrival the one thing Edward did not budge on was the alcohol rule. Besides, it was such a nasty liquid. Why willingly inhibit one's intelligence for the sake of feeling like a moronic idiot? Edward didn’t understand. Jonathan should have known better. 

“After all it is one for myself when I claim Gotham for my own. In my defence, you should have been on schedule to meet up with Penguin.” Jonathan absentmindedly went to open the bottle. He didn’t need a bottle opener when his gloved nails were essentially blades. 

The drink had meant to be for whenever he was back in his own lab on the other side of town. Before Edward could even stop him the cap was popped off. 

Upon the moment the smell hit him Edward turned himself over to the side and threw up clear sick in the sink. Jonathan hadn’t expected him to throw up, gagging a little maybe but not a full on sickness. He thought the rule only existed because Edward had a hang-up about alcohol as a whole. Now the bleachy smell faded into the background only the bourbon filling the kitchen.

Jonathan would have simply loved one of his emetophobic students to be there in that very moment. One could see how sick they were being made by others illness. It was a certain way the face pulled and the skin began to lose its colour one could only describe as a tightness. The same way that a knot pulls in one's stomach. Like a well-matured leather only growing more beautiful the more he saw it. His personal internal monologue interrupted. 

“Stop it, Jonathan. You made me ruin the nice clean sink that I had. Do you think I'm not smart enough to see what you’ve been doing this whole time? If I tell you what's going on will you stop these games?” Edward was breathless. His tiredness beginning to catch up with him. On a good day, he might have even laughed at Jonathan’s antics before offering to cook him some dinner. Like the past seven days, he still wasn't in the mood. 

“Of course. Now, what is it that is causing you distress.” It hadn’t been his intent for Edward to break in front of him but he supposed this didn’t happen all the time and he should listen when the opportunity arose. Besides it occasionally felt good listening to the man ramble on. 

Jonathan took his psychiatrist position on his chair. The only thing that was missing was his notebook and pen. Edward could see how he sat and almost called the whole thing off. The fact he even saw this was a professional psychiatric meeting disgusted him. He wasn’t wrong in the head and it was presumptuous of him to think so. It was insulting to his intelligence. 

Then again it was just his Riddler persona taking over. In the outside world, they were Riddler and Scarecrow but here they could become Jonathan and Edward. They didn’t have to act like they would with others. 

“The prisoner is my father but I know you suspected as much.” Edward knew his father was right. He was a stupid little boy. So stupid that he couldn’t even see that Jonathan was manipulating him. Stupid. Stupid. 

Edward seldom talked about his childhood, let alone any one he knew before coming to Gotham. Jonathan knew that he, personally, was more forthcoming with his past then Edward was. Even without knowing anything about him prior, being alone with the man for five seconds screamed abuse. The need for attention, seemingly hot and cold relationship with physical contact and not to mention his constant need to be the smartest one at all times. Something he was trying to prove. 

Jonathan supposed it was a tragedy in motion for in his eyes Edward was brilliant yet this was why he’d fallen in with them. The Riddler only took form thanks to this man. Perhaps in another life, his father was a good man and he could well have been on the side of justice. 

Edward was nipping his own arm unconsciously. He shouldn’t have involved him it was only making things worse for him. It was enough to leave it red and white but not enough to break the skin. 

“So your father is on his deathbed but you don't know whether or not to confront him? I don't know what to tell you.” 

His relationship with his own father wasn't great but it wasn’t terrible either. He was just a man who happened to be paying the bills and keeping his mother content. He couldn’t be mad but he couldn't be happy with it either. 

Edward scoffed. 

“Oh come on suddenly the master of psychology who deduced the problem I have nervously been worrying about for over a week suddenly can’t tell me what to do. Crane you are insensitive but not malicious.” 

The taller man sat back in his chair. He rubbed his hands lightly as he began to gather a diagnosis of his problems. The green man prepared himself as he waited for the flood of words he was about to be assaulted with.

“I haven’t done an official diagnosis in quite some time. If I was to make an assumption I would say that you want to confront him but if you do then you fear that something will happen. He will say something and you won’t be able to cope with whatever his dying words may be. You will become that little boy from your childhood again and you never want to feel that weak again. That fear will be your undoing. But if you choose to continue in your non-confrontation you know he’ll die and you’d never know why he wanted you to be there. That is one thing that you would never allow Edward. With other people, they could walk away after abuse but you are different. Whatever question you are posed you have a compulsion to answer. That is the curse of your mind. Is it not?”

It was finally put into words for Edward. For so long he’d been trying to figure out why he was so torn on the issue. 

“I suppose...you are correct. I cannot go without answers.” 

He shouldn’t have cared what his father wanted to say. His words were worth as much as the GCPD. A drunk and gambling man shouldn’t be worthy of his time. He’d grown up with that man and the moment he turned sixteen he left for Gotham. Eddie picked harder at the thought of the first year away from his father and everything that came before. 

“Would you like me to find a way to sneak some fear toxin into his sleep? He’s elderly, true, but it can scare him to death.”

He considered it. He looked down at the pages dumped in the wastebasket. All crumpled up ideas of what he could do to his father once he arrived at the hospital. Jonathan’s offer was sweet and like all sweet things it was tempting but he resisted. 

“If it’s any trouble. I would...No. No.” Eddie was looking desperately at him but at the last second, he abandoned his question and turned away. 

“Would you be able to make the opposite of a fear toxin? A confidence toxin.” He changed his question from its original design. 

Edward was certain he could do something like it. Jonathan was the Scarecrow, a master of toxins and the brightest man beside himself that he knew about. He admired him for being able to bring his enemies to his knees with their own brains, he tried to study it but it was more difficult to concentrate on something he had no passion for. 

“No.” He was told abruptly. Not that he wasn’t able to make one. 

Jonathan wasn’t going to let Edward take the easy way out on this one. Edward’s state when coming back from a visit with his father would have been ripe for analysing. He also didn’t like to see such a brilliant mind like his fearing but he might as well kill two birds with one stone. Edward’s closure would satisfy him and he might get more useful research. 

“You could always come with me. I will do most of the talking of course. I just feel that...He has never feared me. Maybe he’ll fear me seeing someone strong beside me.” 

Jonathan sighed and played with the bottle. The powers that be weren’t going to let him resist that charm. 

“What time and date? If it clashes with my work I will have to put it above your little issue.” He hoped that it would be something that would happen a little bit after he took control of the city. Edward had hoped their friendship was going to be at a stage where he could put his own work on hold for a little while for each other. Evidently not. He sulked a little as he told him.

“Tuesday. The doctors say I should go as soon as I can and tomorrow is the best time.”

“Tuesday is tomorrow?” Jonathan checked his phone calendar and sure enough today was Monday. His plans for Ace chemicals were for tomorrow.

The moment he saw Jonathan checking his phone he admitted defeat before it had been said. 

“It doesn’t suit. Does it? That’s alright. I’m the Riddler for Goethe’s sake. I can do this on my own merit. Why am I scared of that old man anyway? It’s not like he can move he’s got a tumour. He can’t hurt me. None of them can hurt me. I’m in an awful apartment but not that one.”

He was saying those empty words to fill in the blanks of his mind. Jonathan averted his eyes to the side for a moment. Edward’s tragic past wasn’t something he wouldn’t like to pry about. The occasional slip of the tongue from Edward would reveal different details of the dark pits of hell that seemed to be his childhood. An ass of a dad, a mother who left him behind and some other unsavoury things that made the Scarecrows blood boil. All topped off with his untreated issues made for a sad answer to the riddle of Edward Nygma. 

Jonathan poured the smoky bourbon down the drain of the sink while doing so hearing his grandfather yelling at him from beyond the grave for wasting a good drink. Edward’s arms slowly unfolded and a soft smile on his face formed, the smell making him gag but refusing to show it. “My calendar is free for tomorrow Edward.” He looked at Edward from the side. He knew the cost. His careful planning much like the alcohol going down the drain. 

“Ironic isn’t it? Almost like one of Joker’s cruel jokes. The master of fear escorting his friend to his greatest fear.” He could feel the majority of the breath coming back into his lungs but while the decision was made he still had to face the consequences of his choice. His father may have been in a near-death state but he would still be the man with the belt. The man who, if angered, would leave him bruised and bleeding. 

“We can have a celebration when we are done. Perhaps a bank heist? If you’d like we can put on a movie and do those bloody facemask things you love so much.”

Edward felt as though his only true friend was Jonathan Crane. It was more than friendship as there was a true understanding between the two. He could understand him in a way that no one else would care to. He knew how to handle him when he was in a mood and never made him feel how all those other people made him feel.

“A bank heist would be mentally enriching. Pick a hard bank. I think a challenge would do me some good. The National Bank perhaps. You can pick the movie. I’ll pick up some pumpkin-themed products especially for you.”

Jonathan could hold his celebration for another day.


End file.
